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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25760296">Sonnet 18</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/soleilas/pseuds/soleilas'>soleilas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Kisses, M/M, Poems, Shakespeare's sonnet 18, Sonnets, Summer, mapletea, prompt was summer, wc20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:07:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,005</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25760296</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/soleilas/pseuds/soleilas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It felt natural, at least to Arthur, and the book of sonnets laid forgotten at his side as he reached out for Matthew. This was right. Matthew fell on his lap haphazardly, and for a moment, they did nothing but giggle breathlessly between tender kisses. </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Canada/England (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sonnet 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Writers Corner June Challenge with the prompt of summer.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The few weeks between spring and summer had always been Arthur's favorite time of the year. The time where the trees were still in bloom, and the wind still had a hint of sharp coolness to it before it settled into the long, muggy days of summer. </p><p>The day had started cold. But as the sun pushed through clouds and towards the apex of its path, the temperature had risen. Despite resting in the shade of a giant maple tree, Arthur had rolled up the sleeves of his buttoned-up white shirt and had turned his bookmark into a paper fan in a feeble attempt to cool himself. </p><p>From his spot in the shade, Arthur could see Matthew crouched in his garden, tending the blooming raspberry bushes. In a few weeks, the plants would be brimming with red berries that would become pies, jams, and preservatives that would soon join the other food stocked in the basement. Arthur knew that he would find himself back out in Matthew's mountain home and help him then, much like he was now. Granted, Matthew had kicked him out of the garden earlier that morning. </p><p>Arthur, finally caving to Matthew's words, had retreated to the large bookshelf in Matthew's tidy office and, after selecting a few books, had returned outside. He had spent the morning reading and sneaking glances at Matthew when he figured the Canadian was not looking. By the time his watch said it was noon, Arthur had finished two books already. Now, he fingered a hardback copy of a collection of Shakespeare's sonnets. </p><p>"Shakespeare, huh?" Matthew took a seat on the quilt and wiped at the sweat on his pale face, which did little except pain dirt streaks across his cheeks. "Well, you are the quintessential British person, I guess that makes sense." Matthew's smile was teasing and light. </p><p>"Oh please, Shakespeare is known worldwide. Besides, this was in your bookshelf, might I remind you." Arthur lightly swatted the closest hand with his makeshift fan. Matthew's responding laugh was contagious. </p><p>"That's all your influence, Arthur." Matthew murmured fondly, "and besides reading them reminds me of you. It's not as good as having you here, but it's something when I'm lonely." Matthew's teasing smile softened into something full of admiration and love. </p><p>
  <em>Oh, God, the lad was a sweetheart. </em>
</p><p>Arthur's cheeks burned, and he scrambled for a response that did not make him look like a lovesick fool, which he was. </p><p>He cleared his throat, "You are remarkably sweet." </p><p>Matthew beamed under the compliment and reached out to comb ungloved fingers through Arthur's unruly hair. He hummed in acknowledgment and pressed his lips to Arthur's slightly sunburnt forehead. "Perhaps, to you."  </p><p>It felt natural, at least to Arthur, and the book of sonnets laid forgotten at his side as he reached out for Matthew. This was right. Matthew fell on his lap haphazardly, and for a moment, they did nothing but giggle breathlessly between tender kisses. </p><p>"Looks like I fell for you all over again," Matthew whispered, leaning back to gauge Arthur's reaction. </p><p>"Aren't you clever." Arthur murmured, the statement holding no sarcasm. His hands trailed across Matthew's cheeks, and he tugged him down for another demanding, but pleasant kiss. </p><p>They settled on the quilt minutes later, Arthur leaning against the firm chest behind him and Matthew's arms wrapped in a warm embrace around Arthur's thin waist. </p><p>"Read to me?" Matthew breathed into Arthur's ear as Arthur picked up the once-abandoned book. Arthur hummed in agreement and opened the book to the page he had stopped on before Matthew had interrupted him. However, the interruption hadn't been unwelcomed. </p><p>
  <em>"Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?</em><br/>
<em>Thou art more lovely and more temperate:</em><br/>
<em>Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,</em><br/>
<em>And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;</em><br/>
<em>Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,</em><br/>
<em>And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;</em><br/>
<em>And every fair from fair sometime declines,</em><br/>
<em>By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;</em><br/>
<em>But thy eternal summer shall not fade,</em><br/>
<em>Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;</em><br/>
<em>Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,</em><br/>
<em>When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:</em><br/>
<em>So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,</em><br/>
<em>So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."</em>
</p><p>Arthur's voice was thick with emotion as he read the words. Perhaps, he mused to himself; this poem perfectly described this moment. The summer day, Arthur's feelings - which he had trouble expressing already - and it described Matthew. Maybe he should recite sonnets when he didn't know what to say. Arthur snickered softly at the thought of whispering sonnet 147 to Matthew is the hopes that Matthew would understand his lust as he took him to bed.  </p><p>Perhaps that wasn't the best example. </p><p>"I love your voice." Matthew's voice broke through Arthur's thoughts. He paused momentarily before adding on hastily, "and the rest of you as well." </p><p>Arthur hummed and pressed soft kisses to Matthew's knuckles in an attempt to soothe him. "My love, as the poem hints at, is eternal," Arthur's lips brush against Matthew's as Matthew dipped him for a kiss, "which for us, is quite possible." </p><p>"I hope so," Matthew's voice was timid and breathless as he pulled away, "because I won't ever let you go." </p><p>Arthur's heart fluttered, and he speechlessly sputtered as he wonders how in the world he got such a devoted, kind, wonderful person like Matthew. It felt ethereal, like if Arthur blinked, it would all disappear. But he knew it wouldn't. No, not with Matthew's sturdy arms around him and his warm lips on his neck. He had somehow found something he had craved for centuries, true and pure love. </p><p><em>My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.</em> Arthur thought as he pressed against Matthew's thin lips. Silently, he thanked Shakespeare for the words he could not seem to find himself.</p>
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